all articles from February, 2012
Wood slabs go posh
Would I consider a wood slab for my new dining room table? No way, I thought, remembering the lumpy dust-catchers from my college days. And so I was shocked at the stunning, sleek, unique designs at Urban Hardwood in San Francisco. Alas – no matter what the wood, the prices are mammoth. But probably worth it if you can afford it – or just seeing them if you can’t.
Flash fiction: South-of-France stories
Sometimes life is a straight line; but rarely!
Such was the case when I was offered a painting commission in a three-story villa in a tiny village in the south of France. Carcés, just north of Marseille.
The adventure was about as squiggly as a line could get. If I had been there simply to paint — that would be one thing. There was too much life happening in the village of Carces to sit still. I’d like to share a few of my experiences here with you.
That’s how Niya’s stories start … Get ready for an enchanting journey. Pour yourself a glass of French wine. Settle in and meet the pizza man and a pink-haired bartender. And enjoy ancient country vines, a giant rabbit, and the king of the villa—a love-sick freckled dog.
Conjuring the Green Angel in Heidelberg
It was blamed for driving van Gogh to cut off his ear. It gets credit for inspiring Freud, Hemingway, and the painter Toulouse-Lautrec. It was considered so dangerous it was banned until 1990, and some brands are still not allowed into the United States. The hysteria surrounding “La Fee Verte,” as absynthe was called, compares to that around “Reefer Madness.” The Wormwood Society, an organization that provides scientific and historical information about absynthe, calls it the most maligned and misunderstood drink in history.
It tastes a little like ouzo and makes a fine-enough cocktail, with names like “In-Seine” and “Absynthe Minded.” But its real allure comes from the mystique dating back to the salons and cafes of turn-of-the century Europe, the escapades of the artists and rebels who made it part of their lives, and the rituals around its consumption.
It’s this dark allure that lives on in the little shop “Gruener Engel,” just a block from the main tourist street with its brightly lit chain stores. Inside, you feel like you’ve been dropped off by the magic carriage from Midnight in Paris. The lighting is dim, there are old-time wooden cabinets with rows of bottles, art-deco “fountains” for preparing the louche concoction, slotted silver spoons for dissolving the sugar; you almost feel you’re doing something forbidden just being there. But then a nice kid-next-door type will appear to tell you all about the history and ingredients of various brands—and the impostors.
When you’re ready to emerge back to the light of day and the 21st century, try Café Burkhart just down the street for a nice meal, great cake, charming surroundings, and another surprise—a back door to a museum.












